Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "CATCH"


А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И Й К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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1. December 9, 1913
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
2. * * * (God is unkind to gardeners and reapers)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
3. * * * (I will quietly in the churchyard)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
4. * * * (Oh, this was a cold day)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.

Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах

1. December 9, 1913
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: The darkest days of the year Must become the most clear. I can't find words to compare - Your lips are so tender and dear. Only to raise your eyes do not dare, Keeping the life of me. They're lighter than vials premier, And deadlier for me. I understand now, that we need no words, The snowed branches are light, and more, The birdcatcher, to catch birds, Has laid nets on the rivershore.
2. * * * (God is unkind to gardeners and reapers)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: God is unkind to gardeners and reapers. Slanted rain coils and falls from up high And the wide raincoats catch water, That once had reflected the sky. In underwater realm are fields and meadows And the free currents sing a lot, Plums rupture on bloated branches And grass strands, lying down, rot. And through the dense and watery net I see your darling face, A quiet park, a round porch And a Chinese arbour-place.
3. * * * (I will quietly in the churchyard)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: I will quietly in the churchyard Sleep on wooden boards in the sun, On the Sunday as guest to mother You will come, my dear one - Through the river over the mountain Can't catch up to grown ones From afar, the sharp-eyed fellow, This my cross you'll recognize. I know, dear one, very little Can you now recall of me: Did not scold you, did not fawn you, Did not hold the cup to thee.
4. * * * (Oh, this was a cold day)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: Oh, this was a cold day In Peter's wonderful town! The shadow grew dense, and the sundown Like purple fire lay. Let him not want my eyes fair Prophetic and never-changing All life long verse he'll be catching - My conceited lips' empty prayer.